Last Minute Invitation
by Franta
Summary: Bobby and Alex procure a last minute invitation to Lady Harrington's recovery party, and secrets come out...let the shippiness become obvious!
1. Chapter 1

Sorry guys- I took my usual sabbatical in the middle of my long stories, and I've decided to ditch my CI/House crossover story- it's just not in me any more…if anyone would like to steal/change/continue it, just say the word and it's yours. Thanks for all the loyal reviews!

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Alex Eames and Robert Goren exited Ross' office. _Maybe we can wrangle a last minute invitation…_

"You wanna wrangle that invitation then, Eames?" her partner asked.

"No way- she loves you- you're her knight in shining armor… you saved her life, remember."

"How could they treat their own-"

"I know why you did it Bobby," she interrupted him with a smile. "For once you don't have to explain…"

He sighed and smiled before sitting down at his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed Lady Harrington's number.

She threw a crumpled up piece of paper at him from across her desk. He opened it and it read, "Thanks for letting me help. It's good to have you back."

He smiled before being caught off guard by a voice on the phone. He quickly recovered and said, "Yes, this is Detective Robert Goren with Major Case. May I please speak to Lady Harrington?… Thank you." He paused and pulled out his notebook. "Yes, Lady Harrington? This is Robert Goren, I was just calling to check up on you. Are you feeling better?" Another pause, he scribbled a note, as if taking notes on the conversation. "Oh- we couldn't-" He smiled at Eames: _we're in._ "Well- thank you Lady Harrington. We'll see you soon." He hung up the phone and said, pointing at her, "You owe me one. I'll pick you up at 6:30. Wear something nice," and then he threw a ball of paper at her before getting up and heading towards the elevator.

Alex opened the piece of paper and it simply read, "Thanks."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the great reviews! Though I wish my e-mail notification were working properly... I'm a little apprehensive about making assumptions as to the resolution of that can of worms they opened at Thanksgiving, just in case they decide to tell us what happened beyond "I'm good now."...they have until my muse strikes again, then to hell with consideration! I know exactly what happened! I just thought i'd be nice and let them explain it their way first...okay- rant over. Enjoy!

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Alex rampaged through her closet looking for something nice that wasn't black or dusty. Flick, flick, flick, flick through the hangars. Black, black, brown, that thanksgiving "thing" (_what was I thinking?_), black, black, black…pink, green, bright blue, leather? She groaned and pulled out the newest, least dusty black dress she could find. She ran through her apartment in her underthings to the kitchen junk drawer where she pulled out a lint roller and furiously attacked the dress.

Now back up in her room, she pulled herself into it and examined herself in the mirror. Nice. Okay, she had a few more wrinkles than when she had last closely examined herself in the mirror, and she had an extra roll in her tummy, but all in all, not bad. She could cover her tummy up with her black jacket. There, that looks…very black… Alex groaned again.

She went into the bathroom and pulled her hair out of her face. She grimaced at the scar that ran along her hairline on her left side. A souvenir from Deck's dear daughter… She hated that she couldn't pull her hair out of her face; it annoyed her on a daily- no, hourly- basis. She settled for pulling her hair back but leaving a thin veil around her face to at least hide the scar, but get the weight out of her way…

As much as she hated fussing over her appearance, she knew it would add to the 'performance' that night- the 'dance' so to speak that she and Bobby would be engaging in to snare their suspect. Looking the part was crucial. She knew Bobby enjoyed it- it was all part of getting in the criminal's head, messing with them, and generally confusing any onlookers. What great fun! She smiled. She heard the buzzer.

"Almost ready. Come on up, Bobby," She said, buzzing him in. She went back into the bathroom and straightened herself out.

She heard her partner enter her apartment and went back out into the living room. He was in black too. New black. Not faded at all- he looked impeccable. He had obviously done a fair amount of shopping since he had cleared up matters with him mother and brother. He must have been the only guy she knew who practiced retail therapy… although perhaps he had lost a little weight- though he was greyer, he was a little thinner and in seemingly better shape. He probably just needed things that fit better- Yes, this new black suit suited him well.

"Eames?" he asked, leaning over to establish eye contact. She suddenly became aware that her reverie had taken longer than she thought.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head (her hair with it). "Ready?"

"What's that?" Bobby asked, reaching in the direction of her scar.

"Nothing," she said, brushing him off. "Ready?" she repeated.

"No," he said, lightly brushing her hair out of the way to reveal the long thin scar that ran the length of her temple and left cheekbone.

"When did you get this?" he asked, though he knew the answer.

"A while back- it's nothing. Can we go now?" she attempted to step around him, but he stopped her.

"Did you get this when you were kidnapped? I didn't see it when you were in the hospital."

"It was cleverly bandaged up," she said irritably.

"What-"

"Scissors- yes, I know it's hideous, yes, I know you can still see it through my hair. Yes Bobby. Yes." She was upset that he was so persistent. She wanted to spare him as much as possible- having him know about the scar was yet another reminder to him that he had let her down- at least, she knew that's how he'd see it. Quite the opposite was true. Everytime she thought about that incident she thought about how out of the pair of them, Bobby and that woman (she never thought of her name if she could help it), how Bobby's upbringing could have turned him serial killer, but didn't. Instead he became one of the world's greatest detectives; instead he had grown up to become her partner. She didn't blame him at all- but try telling him that. Everything was his fault, his responsibility- his mother, his brother, his partner…

He brushed her hair back again and ran his finger along the scar, making her shiver. "You look nice," he said.

"As per your orders," she snapped again, though she didn't feel irritable anymore- quite the opposite. She felt weak. _Bobby, if you don't stop, I'm going to…_

"Let's go," he said. "We're late."

"That _was_ the plan, I believe." Back to her usual self.

They stepped outside and Alex locked her door. As they made their way down the stairs she said, "Look at us- in all black- we look as if we're going to a funeral."

"I like this suit." He replied simply.

"Is it new?" she asked.

"Yes."

"It's nice."

"Thank you."

She got in the dark blue Ford Explorer and started the ignition. "Shall we dance?" Bobby asked, a look of anticipation in his eyes.

"We chase criminals- this isn't sport, Bobby. Don't look so happy," though she was smiling too.

Bobby relaxed into the back of his seat and sank into thought. This was a fairly straight forward case- he would let Alex do the talking and just watch… and maybe he could catch a glimpse of the back of that black dress…

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A/N: I'm sorry, I know they have her in a house in the season premier (genius of an episode!), but I just can't imagine her in anything but an apartment… 


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